Fog of War - Boom Crash 8
by Laura of Maychoria
Summary: It's Pidge's turn to have an adventure with Lance. This time, they're going after data on a Galra ship so she can finally track down her family. Then she's going to blow this ship up. Everything goes well until Lance hits a wall.


**A/N:** Boom Crash returns! The scenario and one line of dialogue in this fic are based on a conversation I had a long, long time ago with riallasheng, but it's evolved since then. There will be another fic in this series coming soonish, a long multi-chap, untitled yet but I can tell you that it will involve the team rescuing prisoners, Lance getting pneumonia again, and Shiro dealing with a ton of identity issues. I've been doing lots of planning, and there's some setup happening in this fic, but mostly it was just Pidge's turn to be Lance's buddy for a mission.

* * *

Pidge crouched at a computer terminal deep in a Galra battleship watching for her cracker to break through the security protocols. She could not stop fidgeting with her hands. Her heart was pounding, and a vein behind her eye was throbbing. She was vulnerable, unable to leave, unable even to move, and Lance was basically on his own until she could free herself from this task.

Lance stood at the door with his bayard out, watching for any guards to find them. The ship was on alert, alarms blaring and lights flashing, but that was because Keith and Shiro were both attacking with their lions from outside. Hopefully the Galra wouldn't wonder why only two lions were visible and catch on that it was a diversion. Hopefully Pidge's programs would protect her from internal detection. Hopefully Hunk wouldn't run into any trouble while guarding their escape route. Hopefully a lot of things.

Hopefully Lance wouldn't have a flashback or a panic attack while Pidge was unable to help him.

The current cracker program failed, flaring red across the screen. Pidge cursed and started another one, fingers shaking on the computer unit as she punched in the code. Numbers began to flash across the small screen as the new protocol ran. Pidge eyes darted to the door where Lance still stood, steady and strong.

They needed the information from this ship. This was a central prison hub, one that coordinated information between a vast majority of Galran work camps, arenas, and other holding areas for those enslaved by the war machine. If she could break into the system and download the database, she would almost certainly find information about Matt and Sam Holt. Pidge should be able to see everything: initial capture, stats, transfers, current location and condition. This was the mother lode. If she got this, she would have everything.

Except the very, very small possibility that they had been transferred to one of Zarkon's or Haggar's personal facilities, or in some other way taken off the grid. But Pidge wasn't thinking about that. Nope. She just had to get in and get this, and she would be able to find her family.

"How's it looking, Lance?" she called breathlessly, eyes darting to him. He gave her a wordless thumb's up rather than risk speaking into the hall, even with the alarms covering up any sound.

Then, disaster. A red icon began to flash in the corner of Pidge's screen. She'd been caught.

Her fingers flew to the keyboard, curses spitting from her lips as she fought to lock it down. Her cracker program had gotten through, and information was downloading, but the intrusion had been detected. Pidge stared at the download bar, watching it slowly fill, then called to Lance. "Buddy, we're gonna have company! I need ninety seconds, okay?"

Lance flashed her a grim look and a nod, then stepped into the hallway with his gun active and ready to shoot. Pidge stared at the download bar, sweat dripping down her forehead, ears straining to hear any noise in the hall. That was the sound of footsteps, lots of them, Galra sentries and officers incoming. Lance's gun shot several times, then more footsteps came from the other direction. Lance grunted, caught by surprise, and there were sounds like grappling. Lance was in trouble, he was in danger, _she needed to get out there._ And she couldn't. She was stuck.

Pidge had never hated her job more.

Finally, she couldn't stand it anymore. She jumped up from her screen and ran toward the door, teeth clenched and bayard at the ready. Before she reached the opening, though, there was a final, floor-shaking thud from outside, and Lance appeared in the frame, wide-eyed and panting.

"That's it, I got 'em, but there are more on the way. You done?"

Pidge spun back to the screen, and yes, _finally,_ the download bar was full. She leaped back and grabbed her Altean flash stick, then ran for Lance. He was reaching for her with one hand, and she locked her grip in his and let him propel her out of the room and into the hall.

They ran like all hell was behind them, which it might as well have been. They heard more enemies clattering up behind them and ducked as laser blasts shot over their heads. Lance shot ahead of them at anyone who approached from that direction, and he never missed. But there was no way he could take down an entire ship full of Galra by himself.

Their helmet comms crackled. Hunk's voice, breathless with stress. "Guys, are you coming? Blue is getting restless."

As per the new protocol, the three of them had brought Blue for this mission, sneaking in through a blind spot on the battleship's radar after Shiro and Keith took out some key sensor ports with their lions. Pidge would have felt better with Green and her cloak, and Hunk would have been happier with Yellow and her heavy armor, but they all prioritized Lance's comfort now. It was a small price to pay to keep their sharpshooter with them, Pidge thought as Lance shot down three more Galra ahead of them.

"We're coming, Hunk," Pidge said. "Hold the line."

"I will, but... You guys are in danger, right? I swear Blue would be pacing if this little back hangar was big enough."

Pidge snorted. "We're always in danger, dude." Her fingers twitched around her bayard. Just let any of the Galra get close enough, and she would take them down herself. But Lance kept them all at bay, shooting tirelessly.

They had reached an engineering section, crowded with pipes and junction boxes. The shooting from behind stopped, probably because any missed shots could have disastrous consequences. Lance lowered his bayard for the moment as he couldn't see far enough ahead to spot any targets coming from that direction.

Pidge breath sounded loud in her ears, her heart pounding and lungs aching as they ran. She looked around, taking in the different engine components as they passed by. Something caught her eye, and she pulled up short, grabbing Lance's arm before he could race ahead. "Lance... That room..." She bobbed her head toward a chamber they had almost passed, breathing too hard to explain.

Lance paused and turned back to her, shifting from foot to foot in his eagerness to be gone. "What is it, Lassie? Timmy fell down the well?"

Pidge chuckled harshly and shook her head, then pointed at the room. She could see a plethora of buttons and dials even from their vantagepoint. "Two minutes. Two minutes and I can set the ship to blow. Poof. No more battleship. Cover our tracks."

Lance hesitated for only a second. His eyes lit up, no hesitation, no doubt, only trust in her assessment and her skills. He reached out one hand and pushed on her upper back, urging her toward the room. "Go. I'll cover you. Two minutes."

She raced inside, eyes whipping back and forth as she took it in. This was the central engineering station for the entire ship. What fabulous luck that their path had taken them directly past this, and that she'd been watching her surroundings closely enough to notice.

"Guys?" Hunk's voice, high-pitched in her ear. "What's the hold-up?"

"Minor delay," Pidge said, reaching out to pull a hose free from a wall. Steam billowed out in an ear-splitting hiss, filling the room and clouding her vision, but she had already mapped out in her head what actions she needed to take in the next few seconds. She couldn't read Galra, not really, but she had memorized a lot of the words used in labels for key mechanical components, hoping for a chance like this to do some sabotage. She was confident she could pull it off.

"Blue's getting even more restless, man. I swear she, like, nudged me with her paw to move me closer to the door I'm guarding, like she thought I wasn't doing my job good enough."

Pidge huffed, mouth curling in amusement. "I'm sure she trusts you, dude. She just wants this over so she can get her baby blue back in her arms."

Hunk guffawed at that, more a blast of air than a genuine laugh, but Pidge would take it. She went on with her work, peripherally aware of Lance continuing to shoot and shoot with his bayard as enemies crept through the piping and machinery to come after them. She was just finishing up when she heard Lance grunt, a clattering of armor and a thud of footfalls shaking the floor.

Pidge whipped her head over to see, even as her hands kept spinning the dials she was working on. "Lance!"

He was grappling with a Galra commander right outside the doorway, one of the flesh-and-blood officers, not a robotic sentry. Fighting flesh-and-blood Galra was what had caused Lance's flashback and panic attack back at that base, and Pidge's breath caught in her throat. Lance was fighting, though, no hint of hesitation or panic. His bayard had fallen to the floor, but fortunately no one seemed to be shooting at them at the moment. Maybe Lance had already taken out everyone else.

The Galra officer hunched over Lance's figure, grinning vicious and sharp-toothed. With a twist of his body, he grabbed Lance's arm and _threw_ him across the room, flashing across Pidge's vision. Lance's body hit the wall with a horrible _crack,_ and Pidge saw his eyes inside his helmet roll up and close. Then he fell limply down the wall and disappeared into the billowing steam.

With a feral growl, Pidge leaped up from her crouching position by the mechanical levers, bayard out and shining furious green. She kept low to the ground, flying through the steam, and the Galra lost track of her for a crucial second, smile falling as he peered back and forth for where she'd gone. Pidge burst upward out of the steam, feeling the cooling air curl around her body and caress her face like smoke, and her bayard found a home in the Galra's gut.

He went down, his scream cut off as electricity tore through him, shocking every muscle and scrambling every nerve. Pidge followed the movement down, making sure she was still pouring damaging energy into him as he fell. He landed on the floor, twitching and unconscious, but still she pressed her weapon against him until she was certain that he would not rise again until long after they were done and gone.

As soon as she was sure, Pidge dismissed her bayard and raced over to where Lance had fallen. Her heart was in her throat. That had been a bad, bad _nasty_ hit. Lance should have at least a concussion out of that, with the way his head had hit. Maybe a broken bone or two. Maybe...

No. Not that. She couldn't think like that.

By the time Pidge got there, Lance was already sitting up, slumped against the wall, one hand holding his head. "Lance, Lance." She fell to her knees next to him, reaching out to grab his head and check him over, but he shook his head and thrust out a stiff arm to keep her back.

"Fine," he muttered, low and growling. "Don't."

Pidge almost laughed, high-pitched and incredulous. "Lance, dude, you are not fine. Don't give me that. You hit your head so hard that you should be seeing tweety birds for a week."

Lance shook his head again, then hopped to his feet with a graceful litheness that shocked and silenced her. Pidge stared up at him with wide eyes as Lance shook himself off, almost like a cat coming out of the rain, disdainful but unharmed. He gestured at the wall of levers and dials. "Finish. Please."

Pidge wanted to protest, but more footsteps were already pounding toward them outside the door. Lance wiggled his body as if to settle himself, bayard appearing in his hand, and strode confidently toward the door. "Finish!" he called again over his shoulder, and Pidge had no choice but to obey.

So close. She was almost done. Lance was fighting behind her, and the sounds had a different cadence now. She didn't hear him shooting his gun anymore, but his bayard had been in his hand... Had he formed a melee weapon instead? They were all having trouble making their bayards take other forms besides their default, well, everyone except Shiro. But if it was going to happen for Lance, Pidge supposed it made sense for it to be in the middle of a fight for their lives.

The sounds of fighting moved away from the mechanical hub room, Lance taking the fight to the Galra now instead of waiting for them to come for him. Pidge finished the last adjustment she needed to make, then hopped to her feet, panting. She looked over the wall, peering through the obscuring steam to make sure she hadn't missed anything.

Yep. All set. The ship was going to explode in about five minutes, and there was nothing any of the Galra could do to stop it.

"Lance!" she yelled. "All done!"

He seemed to be finished, too. She didn't hear anymore sounds of fighting outside. Lance popped his head through the door and flashed her a smile. Had his eyes always been so bright? Pidge had never noticed them inside his helmet before. Maybe the steam and weird lighting was making them stand out. "Go now?"

Pidge nodded. "Yeah, we can go." She crossed the room to meet him. "Are all of the drones down?"

"Drones?" Lance turned his head to peer down the hallway. He made a humming note deep in his throat that transitioned to a sort of pleased chirp, then turned back to grin at Pidge. "Yep, all down."

Something about Lance's syntax pinged her as weird, but Pidge didn't have time to analyze it. She huffed in relief and stepped out into the hall. "We gotta move, dude. Just a few minutes and this ship is going to go up in smoke."

Lance nodded agreeably. He grabbed her hand as she crossed the threshold into the hallway to pull her to his side, then put both hands on her helmet and pointed her head so she was looking straight down the hall. "Don't look to the side." Then he took her hand again and started off at a brisk pace, pulling Pidge behind him.

Pidge's face wrinkled up in confusion. Her eyes flicked to the left and right, but steam had billowed out from the mechanical room, so nothing was clear. But she got an impression of broken bodies smashed against the walls, limbs askew and heads bent at bad angles. Did Lance think it would bother her to see a bunch of ruined robots? She wasn't _that_ crazy about robotics. Sentry drones weren't her friends, so it was okay if they got smashed.

"Not looking?" Lance asked over his shoulder, oddly cheerful, but with an edge to his voice. He really, really didn't want her to see.

Pidge snapped her head forward again and kept her gaze resolutely on Lance's back. She didn't get why he was being like this, but she was willing to do pretty much anything to accommodate Lance's neuroses right now, no matter how weird they were. "Why don't you want me see?"

Lance hummed. "Too messy. My... Not good to see. Green pilot is too young."

Pidge snorted. "What the quiznak, dude? I know I haven't seen as much gore as you and Shiro have, but we're in a war together, you know. I've definitely killed people. Living people, not just drones. I know that. I think I had the first personal kill of the team, actually, when Sendak took over the castle. I know you don't remember that night, but we told you everything that happened when you got out of the cryo-pod."

A displeased grumble vibrated through Lance's chest. "Still too messy. Don't look."

"Fine." Pidge grimaced, then remembered another strange note. "Also, my name is Pidge, not green pilot."

Lance chuckled. "Sorry. Pidge, yes. Follow now, Pidge." He turned the corner out of the cramped, steam-fogged hall and into a wider corridor. No more smashed bodies, and Lance released her hand and began to jog, bayard at the ready.

Pidge trotted up to run at his side, looking over to try to gauge his condition. "Is your head okay? Maybe you hit it too hard when you flew into that wall. You might have a concussion. You're acting weird."

Lance started to shake that off, then paused and tilted his head in consideration. "Maybe."

"Maybe you're acting weird, or maybe you have a concussion?"

Lance laughed again. "Both."

Pidge heartrate ratcheted up yet again. They had to get off this ship _now._ And not just because it was about to blow.

She activated her comm so she could yell at Hunk. "Hunk! We're on the way! Back yourself up to Blue's ramp and prepare to retreat. We gotta get outta here as quick as possible."

"Sounds good to me," Hunk panted. She heard the sounds of his bayard firing, enemy lasers going off in the background. "You might have to fight your way through, a little bit."

"That's fine." Pidge glanced over at Lance as he lifted his bayard to his shoulder and shot ahead down the hall, taking out three sentries coming to stop them with three rapid shots. "I rigged the ship to blow, and I think Lance has a concussion. He's mobile and fighting, but his speech patterns are super weird."

Hunk sucked in a sharp breath. He paused for a split second, and his next word had a high note of stress. "Oh?"

Pidge frowned. It made sense for Hunk to be worried about Lance being hurt in the middle of a mission, but his tone was unusually high-pitched and strained, even for him. It almost sounded like he had a secret he was struggling not to blurt out.

No time to think about that now. Two more hallways, a few more patrols that Lance took down before they got anywhere close to where Pidge could use her bayard, and they reached the hangar. Hunk was crouched at the end of Blue's ramp, as requested, her mighty head lowered and eyes dim. When he saw them at the door, he straightened up with a shout and let loose an all-out barrage from his shoulder cannon.

Pidge and Lance didn't bother trying to clear out the hangar—there were far too many enemies for that—just cut a path straight to Hunk and Blue. Pidge got a chance to use her weapon here, at least, swinging around Lance to trip or tase anyone who got too close while he looked ahead and carved a path with his precision shooting. Pidge had her shield out, too, doing her best to protect them both since he needed both hands for his gun, while Hunk covered them, yelling vague threats and nonsense phrases at the Galra.

Then they were up the ramp and running into Blue's cockpit, the machinery coming alive around them in a wave of activity. By the time they reached the cockpit, Blue was already in the air and blasting out of the hangar like a train the size of a skyscraper.

It was a good thing, too, because the second they got there, Lance fell limp on the floor.

Hunk had already dematerialized his bayard, but now his breath left him in an explosive gasp and he fell to his knees by Lance's crumpled form. He reached out and grabbed his shoulders and gave him a stiff shake. "Lance! Lance! What's wrong?"

Pidge stood looking over his shoulder, trembling and breathing hard. "Hunk, don't shake him." The words came out clipped and harsh, though she wasn't angry at Hunk, not really. "I told you he has a concussion."

"Ah. Right." Hunk's voice was trembling. Pidge saw it in his hands too. The last fifteen minutes or so had been frantic for Pidge and Lance, but they had been downright terrifying for Hunk.

Hunk carefully set Lance's limp body down on the deck and arranged his limbs so he laid flat, then pressed Lance's head between both of his hands and leaned over to look straight down at his face. "Lance, can you wake up? Please, buddy. I need to know you're okay."

Lance didn't move, eyes closed, mouth slack, face covered with a sheen of sweat. Hunk looked at Pidge over his shoulder, eyes wide with fear. "Why did he collapse now? He seemed fine a minute ago. He was running with you, right, even after he got the concussion? This is bad news, Pidge. There might be internal bleeding in his skull or something that just now caused enough pressure to make him pass out."

Pidge clenched her fists and looked forward through Blue's viewscreen. Blue was ignoring the battle still going on around the Galra ship, flying in a straight line back to the Castleship. As Pidge watched, Keith and Red flashed by on the right, cutting off a squadron of Galra fighters that had been making a run on Blue. She could hear the chatter in her ears from Shiro and Allura, asking what was going on, if everything was okay, if the mission goals had been accomplished. She wasn't sure how to answer.

Lance was clearly not okay.

"I don't know, Hunk," she said grimly. "We just gotta get back and get him in a pod, that's all."

The rearview screen in Blue's cockpit lit up in flash of white and orange, and Pidge instinctively looked over her shoulder, even though she wouldn't be able to see anything through Blue's bulk. The ship she had sabotaged had just blown up. In ordinary circumstances Pidge would want to be watching, wanting to see her handiwork. But at this moment, all she could think about was Lance and just how freaking _weird_ he'd been acting ever since he hit the wall.

It wasn't just his speech patterns that had changed. His movements had been different, too, smoother, more graceful and efficient. He had moved like a melee fighter skilled at tearing enemies apart with his bare hands rather than a sharpshooter who preferred to stay at a distance, though his targeting hadn't suffered at all. A concussion should have made his movements clumsy, just like his words. And that hadn't happened at all.

And he had been even more protective of Pidge than usual, to the point that he didn't want her to see the results of his fighting. Why? Pidge gritted her teeth. Those hadn't been drones in the hall. Not at all. Remember the glimpses she'd gotten through the steam and the fog of adrenaline, the twisted limbs and broken necks, she was sure of it now. Those had been flesh-and-blood Galra, and Lance had smashed them in hand-to-hand combat. She had only ever seen something similar when Shiro went all glowy arm on some Galra sentries, ripping them apart with swift, brutal movements, his only goal to end the threat as quickly as possible.

It was almost like it hadn't been Lance at all.

Pidge looked back at Lance and Hunk. Hunk had settled back on his heels and was holding Lance's hand in one of his, patting the back of it repetitively while he spoke soothing phrases, as much to calm himself as anything else. "Gonna be okay, 'sfine, everything's okay, buddy, you did good, you did good..."

Looking back, Hunk hadn't really sounded all that...surprised...when Pidge told him that Lance's speech patterns had gone strange. He had been worried and upset, certainly, but even in that moment, Pidge had thought he sounded like he was trying to keep a secret. Hunk wasn't great at keeping secrets, and it was usually pretty easy to read him. He hadn't even been able to keep Lance's surprise birthday party from him, and that secret had been utterly harmless.

Did Hunk know something about this? Had Lance gone weird before, and Hunk knew why?

Pidge shook her head and looked forward to the mouth of Blue's hangar looming before them. Almost home. They needed to get Lance to a pod and get him healed up. Pidge could worry about these questions later. None of it really mattered as long as Lance was okay.

In the frantic rush to the infirmary, the clean-up after the battle, the debriefing, the headrush of examining all the new data she had gathered and the new task of decrypting and analyzing it, the question of what was going on with Lance faded from Pidge's mind. But it never quite disappeared. She knew something was up. And she was going to figure it out.

Just not right now.


End file.
